


First Contact

by Imrryr



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Astronauts, F/F, Femslash, Space!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imrryr/pseuds/Imrryr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightning had expected to be the first human being to step foot on Pulse.  FLight AU in spaaaaaace (kindof)</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve always wanted to write a story where Lightning was an astronaut. Originally, Fang was gonna be one too, but then last Friday I came up with this. >.>
> 
> Written with the aid of the Apollo Lunar Surface Journal website, a copy of Andrew Chaikin’s A Man on the Moon, and too much time spent playing Kerbal Space Program. As always, any errors involving Newtonian physics are my own.
> 
> Dedicated to my science-senpai, logosminuspity. C:

Lightning’s voice remained calm even as the ship rumbled all around her and sweat dripped from her brow.  Intense flames obscured the view outside her window, but the heat shield was doing what it was designed to do, slowly vaporize away as it absorbed the twenty-seven hundred degree heat of atmospheric entry.  Inside the cabin, it felt more like the Sunleth Waterscape on a humid summer’s day, well, if you discounted the excessive g-forces and the constant shaking.  “Okay, Bodhum.   Altitude sixty kilometers.  Speed twenty-thousand kph.”

She could barely hear Sazh, currently three-hundred thousand kilometers away at Mission Control in Bodhum, answering through her headset, “Roger, Odin.  All readings nominal.”

Fifty kilometers, forty-five, forty…  “Thirty-five kilometers.  Speed ten-thousand kph.”   As the ship continued to slow, the firestorm outside abated.  For the briefest of moments, she allowed her eyes to look beyond the green altitude and velocity measurements being projected onto the window and instead focus on the high mesa just coming into view beyond the vast ocean below her.  Surrounding it was a lush and winding river valley which stretched for a good hundred kilometers beyond the horizon.  There was nothing at all like it back home, and soon she’d be the first human to step foot out there. 

She couldn’t wait.

“Twenty-four thousand meters.”  A pained metallic squealing noise continued to reverberate through the cabin, the sound of the ship trying to tear itself apart.  This wasn’t a simple sleek reentry capsule intended only to land and be retrieved by a passing airship.  No, the Odin was designed to land on the unexplored surface of Pulse and then return to orbit under her own power, and as a result the ship was substantially more massive than anything Lightning had ever before flown.  Still, the landing and ascent sequences had been tested and tested, then tested again.  The ship would complain all the way down, but it would hold.

“Understood.  You are Go for powered descent.  Over.”

“Roger,” she replied.

Then, as she had done a thousand times in the simulator, she entered the command to release the drogue chutes.  This was it.  The display read 99:40; engineering code for ‘do you wish to proceed?’

She pressed the execute switch.  In that instant the heat shield dropped and the chutes released.  There was a lurch as the ship suddenly slowed, but soon the incredible g-forces subsided and the body harness that kept Lightning standing began to relax.  She found herself finally able to breathe a little easier.

With one increasingly clammy hand still on the throttle and another on the RCS controls, she continued to read out the numbers on the heads-up display as her target drew closer.  “Drogues deployed.”  Her eyes darted to the center console.  Next to the propellant gauge there was a big red abort button waiting for her, just in case.  “Okay.  Nineteen-thousand at six-hundred and fifty.”  Six-hundred and fifty meters per second.  She was stuck in a tin can hurdling through the atmosphere of an alien world at over two times the speed of sound.

The ship was still slowing rapidly. Instinctively, she entered and executed the next command.  “Main chutes deployed.”  For a second, the shaking and squealing grew worse, but it subsided as quickly as it began.

“Roger.  Bahamut confirms all chutes are open.”

“Acknowledged,” Lightning replied.  Bahamut was the unmanned ship that would stay in Pulsian orbit until it was time to ferry her home.  “Altitude seven-thousand meters.  Descent rate seventy meters per second.  Atmospheric pressure four-hundred millibars.  Winds northwest at fifty kph.  Temperature minus thirty degrees.”  Other than the ever present static in her ear, all Lightning could hear now was the wind and the bass roar of the engine beneath her feet helping to slow her descent.   She wiped her brow.  Cabin temperature was twenty-seven degrees Celsius.  She made a mental note to complain about the air conditioning when she returned to Cocoon.

“Twenty percent fuel,” Sazh informed her.  When it reached zero, she’d better be on the ground.

“Five-thousand.  Forty meters per second.”  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the mesa looked sufficiently flat for her purposes, just as orbital photos had indicated.  Clumps of alien looking trees and bushes were scattered about the top, but it was nothing to be too concerned with.

With the aid of the chutes, her descent had turned nearly vertical.  “Winds dying off.  Three-thousand.  Thirty meters per second.”

The mesa was a long rectangular block of rock that stood about eight-hundred meters above the valley.  Less than a kilometer wide, it stretched for another five to the east, giving her a fair amount of margin for error.  And more importantly, it was almost perfectly flat.

“One-thousand.”  She began to see hints of dark shadows at the intended landing site.   Boulders, perhaps?

By the time she reached six-hundred meters, it became clear that the site the computer was bearing down on was completely unsuitable.

“Looks like there are some pretty large rocks down there.”  She flexed her fingers.  ‘Pretty large’ was an understatement.  If she could see them from here, they were bigger than her velocycle back home.  “Going to manual control.”

She knew Sazh wouldn’t be happy.  Manual control meant something was not going entirely according to plan.  “Uh, roger that.”

With the thrusters, Lightning eased the ship laterally as she increased engine power, bringing it to as slow a descent as possible without losing the chutes.  This continued until she was just forty meters above the surface.  Then she set them loose and slowly rotated the ship horizontally as she searched for a safer place to land.

“Ten percent fuel.”

Finally, there appeared to be a reasonably level space next to a copse of trees, perhaps fifty meters from the edge of the sheer cliff.  Sazh would definitely not approve, but Lightning tilted the ship in that direction anyway, frowning as dust kicked up by the engine began to obscure her view.

“Uh, Soldier?  Where are you going?”

“Just over there,” she said, not realizing that her answer was less than informative.

“Six percent fuel.”

_‘Okay, a little less thrust.’_ Thirty percent.  The Odin was kicking up so much of the stuff now that she couldn’t see a thing outside her window.  It was now or never.  “Twenty meters.  Four meters per second.  Three.  Two.  One and a half meters per second.”

Contact light.

Gently, she eased the throttle to zero.  The ship shook as it hit the dirt hard, then settled solidly on its landing pads.  For a second, Lightning pressed her hands against the center console, smiling to herself.  She had done it.  “Mission Control?  The Odin has landed.”

…

“Can you give us a surface report, Soldier?”

Lightning smiled at the nickname as she checked the read-out one last time.  “Atmospheric pressure just a few bars above Cocoon standard.  Temperature twenty degrees.  Humidity forty-two percent.  Winds out of the northwest at four kph.”  Once on the ground, the ship was as stable as a house, with just a slight two degree lean to port.   The experienced airship pilots clamoring for the first landing on Pulse had insisted that a ‘ _mere soldier’_ couldn’t possibly do it, but Lightning Farron, formerly of the Guardian Corps, had absolutely nailed it.

It had been three hours, but after double-checking all the ship’s systems and being forced by the flight surgeon to take a short rest, Lightning was finally allowed to open the main hatch.  She had on a lightweight pressurized suit.  It felt stupid to wear the thing on a planet that could easily support life, but the people back home were worried about disease.  Fortunately, though the white suit fit rather snuggly, it offered an impressive degree of movement. 

“Stepping out now.”  Egress involved crawling on her hands and knees through the small forward hatch.  Once outside, she was able to stand up and finally take a look around.  It was like landing in the middle of a national park, except that this mesa alone was as large as any park on Cocoon.

She looked at where the ship was resting on the ground.  “The footpads haven’t sunk in too far, Bodhum.”  More than one person back home had expressed concern that she’d screw up and land in sand or something equally preposterous, only to sink and never be seen again.  “The rocks I can see from here appear to be quartzitic sandstone.”

She wasn’t a natural-born scientist.  In fact, Lightning had to study day and night to pass all the courses required to make her superiors happy: geology, meteorology, astronomy, exobiology.  It took _years_ , especially with all the simulations and test flights, but Lightning wanted to be the first human to step onto another world, and that was the price.  One of the prices, at any rate.  The other was missing five years of her sister’s life.

Even at that moment, as she gently shut the hatch behind her, the thought made her chest tighten.  At least Serah could see her now, along with the rest of the world.

“We see you coming into the picture now, Soldier.”

Lightning looked up at the camera attached high on the starboard SRB and gave a little half-hearted wave.  Then she shook her head and concentrated on her descent of the ladder until she reached the bottom rung.  Gravity on Pulse was about the same as back home, and even with the suit, it was no more difficult than descending a playground ladder.

Finally, she had one foot dangling over the edge. _‘Here goes nothing.’_   Without another word, she dropped the remaining distance, landing solidly on the dusty ground.

The media had prodded her incessantly about what she would say at this critical moment; the first human being ever to step foot on another world.

Seconds ticked by.  “Uh, well, here I am.”

Static came back from her headset for the longest time before she heard Sazh Katzroy’s familiar laugh.  “Well said, Soldier.  Well said.”

…

The next hour was taken up with collecting contingency samples and setting up scientific instruments.  Lightning had enough oxygen available for seven days, but there were rocks, and various plant and animal life samples that needed to be taken, catalogued, and stowed quickly in case an emergency required her immediate return to orbit.  If that happened, there would be no coming back, at least not for her.  Fortunately, Sazh was there to give constant updates on the state of the ship, and so far there was no indication of any malfunction in either the Odin or the Bahamut, leaving her free to continue her mission.

Pulse was almost the polar opposite of its twin world, Cocoon.  On her world, there wasn’t a single square mile that hadn’t been shaped by human hands in one way or another.  Cities stretched for miles, and practically every bit of land that wasn’t occupied was being intensively farmed.

A thought struck her that it would be a shame if such a fate lay in store for this world.  Here was a living testament to what Cocoon must’ve once looked like before humankind’s ancestors climbed down from the trees.  The tall grass swaying in the wind, the flocks of birds calling from above, the way the sky had not a single contrail in it.  It was peaceful in a way Cocoon never was.

She wished she could smell the air.

Then she heard footsteps coming from behind her.  Instinctively, she reached for the blazefire saber resting in its sheath behind her back and spun on her heels.  This was the reason they had sent a soldier and not a pilot.  There were beasts on this world like nothing back on Cocoon.

Still, they had chosen the mesa for a reason: to lessen the likelihood of running into any large creatures.

When she saw what it really was, Lightning thought she was seeing things.  But _no_ , it was in fact a person standing before her.  Her mouth dropped open.

Humans, on Pulse?  That couldn’t be.  The photographs returned from surface probes weren’t particularly detailed, but they showed no sign of cities, or farmland, or fires, or anything that even remotely suggested intelligent life.  But there it was, in the flesh, staring back at her with inquisitive green eyes.  The woman had the fur of some unknown animal draped over her shoulder and shorts made out of a material Lightning couldn’t identify.  Her society, if indeed she belonged to a society, must’ve been very primitive indeed, at least technologically.

A long lost relative of the human race?  If so, how did she get _here_?  Or, maybe Cocoon’s people came from Pulse?  It was all very confusing.  “Um, Sazh?  I’m not alone.”

“Roger, we, uh… we see that.”

The woman stopped in her tracks, but showed no sign of malevolence, and the long bright red spear she carried was not being pointed at her.  Lightning decided that a show of good faith was in order.  She placed her own weapon against one of Odin’s landing legs and held out her hands to show she wasn’t a threat.

The woman tilted her head.  Beads were woven into her hair and a necklace strung with the teeth of what must’ve been a truly enormous animal hung low around her neck.

Lightning pursed her lips.  Nothing in her training had covered the possibility of coming across intelligent life on her EVA, and Mission Control was being decidedly stingy on advice.  “Any suggestions, guys?”

Static.

She pitied Sazh at that moment.  He was in a room with probably fifty scientists shouting fifty different things to him at once.

For a long moment the two women stared at each other, the stranger showing no signs of impatience, but also no sign of getting any closer.  Her eyes darted from Lightning, to the ship, and then occasionally to the sky.

Lightning looked up and saw nothing, not even a flock of birds.

In fact, everything had grown strangely quiet.

Sazh finally answered her, “Um, Lightning.  The general consensus here is that you not antagonize her.”

She hoped they could hear the rolling of her eyes.  “ _Right_.”

When she stepped closer, the stranger locked eyes with her and stiffened.  What to say?  _‘I come in peace?’_ No, this wasn’t some low-budget sci-fi movie, this was real.  She pointed to herself.  “My name is Lightning.”

The stranger said nothing, if indeed she could say anything.  It then occurred to Lightning that her suit was almost certainly muffling her voice a bit, not to mention making her look pretty strange to unaccustomed eyes.

It took some time, but the woman finally relaxed.  Tied to the belt around her waist, she had a pouch from which she pulled out something that could only be described as cylinder shaped.

Lightning stepped forward.  The object seemed strangely familiar.  Smiling, the woman closed the remaining distance and handed it to her.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”  She _had_ seen this before.  It was part of a camera arm.  This had once belonged to one of the unmanned Surveyor probes which had preceded her mission.  She turned it over and there was the ever-present R &D Depot logo.

Fang was pointing up at the sky and Lightning looked over her shoulder to see the slim crescent of Cocoon hanging low above the horizon.

This woman understood where she had come from?

That’s when she heard it, an unholy shriek that shook the ground, the trees, even the ship.  The stranger dropped to one knee, pointing her spear at the sky, a determined look on her face.

Lightning dropped too.  “Did you hear that?” she rasped into the receiver.

For the first time in her life, Sazh’s reply actually sounded panicked, “Roger, Soldier!  Recommend you ingress immediately!”

“ _Right_.”  She spun on her heels to retrieve her gun when the sound came again, only much louder this time.  Instinctively, she dove for the weapon.  Suddenly, the entire ship rocked on its landing legs like it had been hit by a bus, or considering the sheer mass of the Odin, several buses.

Then Lightning saw it, a giant creature swooping up into the air from behind the ship.   She watched in awe as it looped through the sky on its massive and improbable looking wings, before it turned and suddenly barreled straight towards them.

“Zirnitra!” the stranger cried.

Lightning didn’t know if that was meant to be a battle cry or not, but clearly this thing, this _dragon_ , was angry about something.   It roared again as it approached, its giant talons outstretched.  She leveled her weapon and fired a red beam of light that pierced straight through its right wing, causing the dragon to turn involuntarily and miss them both.  However, it screeched as it flew past, and this time the resulting blast of air sent Lightning right off her feet.

She scrambled for her gun and the next thing she heard was a loud crash followed by the shrieking of metal.

Rolling onto her back, Lightning gasped to find one of the Odin’s solid rocket boosters clutched in the dragon’s talons.  There was twenty-five thousand kilograms of ammonium perchlorate and aluminum rocket fuel in that thing, but the beast easily lifted the whole booster straight into the air, the gust from its wings kicking up as much dust as the Odin had done just hours before.

With a swing of its claws, it sent the booster hurtling at her and it was all Lightning could do to roll out of its way before it hit.

When it did, the SRB struck the ground, bounced back up, and toppled rapidly end over end, making an improbable noise like a helicopter blade cutting through the air, until it disappeared over the cliff.  A second later it exploded, shaking the rock beneath her feet.

Even the dragon seemed surprised, and as it hovered over the edge, its unearthly orange skin made even more so by the explosion going on beneath it, the lull gave the stranger a chance to make a running leap onto its back.  The dragon screeched when her spear dug into its flesh and Lightning watched in horrified disbelief as they both disappeared over the edge.

“ _Sazh_?” Lightning shouted in the mic.

There was nothing but static.

She checked her gun.  “Damn!”   The laser emitter was damaged.  Quickly, she activated blade mode, watching with satisfaction as the sharp saber swung out and locked into place with a satisfying click.  Despite her pride in its design, Lightning couldn’t imagine even nicking a creature that big with such a comparatively puny weapon, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t try.

Panting all the while, Lightning ran to the edge of the cliff, only to be taken off guard when the creature came rushing back up, flapping its massive wings in a frenzy.  The stranger was still there, seemingly glued its back, shouting words Lightning couldn’t understand.  Her spear was still lodged deeply into the dragon’s flesh.  It ascended, then rolled over and hurdled back towards the ground.  As it passed, the edge of one of its leathery wings dug deeply into Lightning’s upper back, leaving her screaming in pain as she was thrown to the ground.

Thanks to her soldier’s training, she was able to duck into a roll as she landed, but several different tones began sounding in her ear at once.  _‘Containment compromised, oxygen reserves diminishing rapidly.’_   She hurriedly activated the emergency backup.  Thirty minutes of air, if she wasn’t exerting herself.  There was no time to take her helmet off.

Meanwhile, the stranger and the dragon crashed into a dense copse of trees.  The beast’s wings were now in a terrible state, with huge bloody gashes running down them.  Lightning dashed forward to the woman’s aid, her saber at the ready.  Again and again, the stranger powerfully stabbed the beast with a large black knife the size of Lightning’s forearm as it snapped its enormous teeth at her.

Its tail thrashed wildly back and forth, but Lightning leapt at it and was able to grab a hold of the base just as her companion was finally knocked to the ground.  She had to act now, before the beast got one of them in its giant mouth.  Gripping her blade tightly, she pressed the three buttons that activated the laser override, and using all her strength, buried the weapon as far as it would go, which was still nothing compared to how far that red spear had gone.

The dragon shrieked in outrage, and Lightning was thrown off the creature’s back and onto the grassy ground.  It turned and Lightning could see pitch black eyes staring down at her, its foul breath burning her exposed skin.  “Blazefire!” she shouted.  “Override:  sigma epsilon rho!”

There came a high-pitched whine.  Flames rose out of the creature’s back and it gave an ear-splitting roar as it reared up onto its hind legs.  A second later, the weapon exploded and Lightning was thrown back even further, her head connecting sharply with a rock.  In her dazed state she saw what appeared to be a long shard of metal tumbling through the sky above her head.  She couldn’t even move.  She shut her eyes and thought of Serah.

An instant later, when she opened them again, there was the woman’s spear, sticking out of the ground like a javelin, less than a meter from her head.  Lightning let out a deep breath.  Strands of hair lay plastered against her face and her visor was fogging up.  “Mission Control?  Sazh?  Are you there?”

No response.

Blinking, she pushed herself up to a sitting position to take in the carnage all around her.  There was a decent sized crater in the ground, filled with the charred remains of whatever the hell that thing was.  Then, peering back at her through some tall tufts of grass, was her new friend.

“Um, hello,” Lightning said lamely.  Surprisingly, aside from a number of small cuts and scrapes, and the fact that her hair was in wild disarray, her companion looked completely unscathed.  Did the natives of this world routinely encounter creatures like that dragon?   The thought made her heart race.

And, well, her friend’s exposed muscles and numerous scars certainly indicated that life here on Pulse was very different from Cocoon.  Etro, it looked like she could tear a man apart with arms like that.

Lightning coughed.

The suit emitted another round of emergency tones.  Her companion blinked at the strange noises and Lightning finally decided she’d had enough of this spacesuit.  To curious eyes, she unlocked the plastic helmet and slipped it off.

The woman blinked again and Lightning shook her head before tucking her long pink hair behind her ears.  She became aware that her friend was practically in her lap by this point.  Her gaze was intense, and what had first reminded Lightning of a bad sci-fi movie was quickly reminding her of a movie of a completely different sort.

She held out a hand to keep the stranger from getting any closer and stood up on shaky legs to better remove the rest of her suit.  The clothes underneath were simple, just a dark undershirt and shorts.  She’d naturally prefer pants, but the suit was too warm for them.  When it was finally lying in a heap on the ground, the only bit of space-age technology Lightning was left with was her headset which was still receiving nothing but static.

Gingerly, she stumbled towards the external locker of the Odin where an emergency medical kid was stowed.

With the green Unicorn Mart brand medical gel in hand, she scooped up a handful of it and applied it to her back.  Instantly, the burning sensation receded and the bleeding stopped.  _‘Medical magic,’_ she thought, still breathing heavily from the exertion.

She spared a moment for the Odin.  The starboard side was badly smashed in and, of course, the solid rocket booster that was once attached to that side was now in a million tiny pieces, but even if the rest of the ship were undamaged, with only one SRB, it would never fly again.  The asymmetric thrust would send it right into the ground if she even tried.

She sighed.  Finally, the strain of the last few minutes seemed to catch up to her all at once and Lightning slumped wearily to the ground.

Again, the woman approached, saying a few words that Lightning had no idea how to translate.  She seemed happy and excited though.  Perhaps she was pleased about the kill?  She certainly had a right to be.

“Lightning,” she said again, pointing to herself.  Then she pointed at her companion, trying to make it apparent she was asking a question.

“Lightning,” the woman repeated. 

The astronaut smiled.  Progress.  Her companion had an accent, but had no difficulty in saying the name.  Impressive.

Then the woman pointed to herself, “Fang,” she said.

“Fang,” Lightning repeated, earning a smile and a nod.  How appropriate.  And this was good, nodding seemed to mean the same thing here that it did on Cocoon.

If only there was a Cocoon to Pulse dictionary lying around somewhere for the remaining twenty-thousand words they’d need. 

Seemingly at ease, Fang knelt down beside her again.  Lightning took another dab of the gel and spread it across a cut on Fang’s leg.  The woman tilted her head questioningly, then looked at Lightning in surprise when the healing effects kicked in.

Lightning smiled and Fang smiled back.

“Hey, Soldier?  Can you hear me?”

Fang jerked backwards, her eyes wide.

Still smiling, Lightning shook her head.  “Sazh?  It’s nice to hear from you again.”

“What in the world just happened, Soldier?  We lost video, and the flight surgeon says he isn’t receiving any data.”

There was a pause as she stared at Fang.  “Um, we ran into one of Pulse’s avian, erm, _creatures_.  Odin lost an SRB, and I lost my suit.  I’m all right though, and so is our friend here.”  She patted Fang on the upper thigh in an attempt to be reassuring.   If she was going to be stuck here, it would be advisable to start making friends.

Sazh blew a sigh of relief.  “You had us worried.  We’re gonna prep the Alexander, but it’ll be at least two weeks before rescue arrives.”

“Roger.  I think I’ll be all right.”

“Good, good.  We’ll have LOS in one minute, by the way.”

Lightning looked out over the western horizon.  The blue world of Cocoon was beginning to set behind the mountains.  After loss of signal, there would be no contact with home until sometime early next morning.  “Roger that.”

“Um, any complications with your companion there?”

Fang had a hand on her upper arm now and was just rubbing up and down the exposed skin, making Lightning blush horribly.   She was afraid to stop her, lest it provoke some kind of serious diplomatic incident.  “Um, no.  She seems very, erm, _friendly_.  I don’t think I’m in any danger.”

The static was getting worse.  “Roger.  R – mend you – ess – once the -.”  Then there was silence.

Lightning lowered her mic.  Technically, she was on her own now; the sole representative of Cocoon in a foreign land.  “Well,” she breathed, looking sheepishly at her companion.   “I guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

Fang tilted her head again.

There were much worse people to be trapped on an alien world with, she reasoned, and Fang was certainly a great deal more pleasant company than the purple lizard aliens featured in the last movie she’d seen with her sister.  Didn’t hurt that she was very attractive too.

When Fang crawled further forward, Lightning became distinctly aware of just how she was pressed against the cold, metal landing leg.

Fang pressed forward until she really was in her lap and… was she _sniffing_ her?

“I, um…” Lightning lightly protested, gasping when Fang buried her face into her hair and began gently nipping at her neck.  How did one go about explaining the concept of personal space to someone who didn’t speak your language?

Then Fang’s lips were on hers.

Lightning gasped again, which only seemed to encourage Fang.  She felt wandering hands, one on her back, another on her stomach, traveling first up, then down.  _‘Okay,’_ she thought.  _‘Clearly, women from Pulse are not just better fighters, but also better kissers.’_

She ran a hand up the wild-woman’s back.  _Damn_.  She wished she had muscles like that.

Soon, it became clear that Fang’s wandering hand was going to keep heading south.  Gently, Lightning grabbed Fang’s wrist and stilled it.  Fang pulled away from her lips, appearing disappointed, but allowed her hand to be tugged away.  Lightning didn’t usually go so far on the first date.  She’d at least want dinner and a movie first.  Fortunately, it appeared that Fang understood that. 

Well, maybe not the dinner and a movie part.

Breathing deeply for a few moments before nodding, Fang sat back and pulled out a small leather pouch from the bag she carried, placing it on the ground and untying it.  Inside were dark strips of, well, _something_.  Animal meat, perhaps?

Picking up a piece, Fang split it in two and handed half to her.

Lightning’s eyes widened, and seemingly to reassure her, Fang bit into her piece, chewed and swallowed and finally smiled.

Warily, Lightning sniffed it.  They didn’t have food like this on Cocoon; real actual meat cut from actual animals was the purvey of the kind of restaurants Lightning couldn’t even afford to wait in line at.  But Fang was still watching her expectantly.  Hopefully, one bite wouldn’t kill her.

She bit into it and chewed.  Wow, it was pretty salty… and rather satisfying. Savoring it a bit longer, Lightning swallowed and smiled and Fang smiled back, handing her another strip of meat.

And so they eat together, still in very close proximity, washing the mystery meat down with water out of an animal hide canteen Fang also carried with her.  This was already going way better than last month’s date with Colonel Nabaat.  There was far less butt groping for one thing.

Finally, Fang neatly retied her bundle and placed it back in her pouch, standing and offering a hand to Lightning who gladly accepted it.  Cocoon had set forty-five minutes ago.  In another two hours it would be the sun’s turn.  She considered trying to explain that they spend the night in the ship, even though it would be cramped with two people, but Fang was beckoning her over to a nondescript patch of dirt.

Soon it became clear why.   With a stick, Fang drew an outline of what Lightning immediately recognized as the mesa they were standing on.  Next came the westward flowing river, then the shoreline.  Fang’s knowledge of the local geography was impressive.  Finally, she drew what looked like mounds right at where the river met the sea.  Hills?  No, wait, _dwellings_?  Lightning tried to remember.  According to satellite imagery, there were deep holes in the cliffs there.  Did Fang’s people live in those caves, or perhaps under an overhanging cliff?  It would explain why the probes never saw them.

Fang stared at her expectantly.  What else could she do but agree?  Lightning smiled and nodded.  Her face muscles actually hurt.  She hadn’t smiled this much in five years.  “Okay,” she said, gesturing to the west.  “Lead the way.”

Fang actually leapt off the ground, grinning all the while.  She ran over to her spear and pulled it out of the dirt as Lightning lifted a few articles from her medpack that might prove useful in making friends with Fang’s people.  Although, if today were any indication, she had nothing to worry about on that score. 

Then the thought struck her that all the people she would be meeting might be as friendly as Fang was.  Her throat went dry.  She wasn’t sure if she could handle such a possibility.

Climbing the Odin’s ladder, Lightning stowed her suit and entered the code to lock the door.  Jumping back down, she looked up at the hopelessly crippled ship one last time.

She could just see her future statue in Bodhum’s city center now.  Lightning Farron: the first human to walk on Pulse.  The first human to make contact with an alien race.  The first human to _make out_ with a member of said alien race. 

Fang was looking over her shoulder, excitedly urging her to follow.

Lightning ran to catch up.  Okay, maybe she’d keep that last part a secret.


End file.
